Supernaturally, Naturally
by Robert C. Dionysus
Summary: Sam gets a vision of a young man who has been marked by demons for death. Dean and Sam decide to protect him figuring he might be important if the demons care so much.
1. Chapter 1: Stranger in his Strange World

**Supernaturally, Naturally.**

_By Rob Dionysus_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Supernatural' or anything like that; however, any similarity between the characters of this story and the characters from the 'Supernatural' is entirely intentional.

**Beta'd:** By the lovely Rae Artemis who is a boon to me and without whom, I would be lost on some backwater road being chased by rabid puppies.

**Summary: **Sam gets a vision of a young man who has been marked by demons for death. Dean and Sam decide to protect him figuring he might be important if the demons care so much.

**A/N: **I decided to write my first fanfic under the influence of sleep deprivation. Enjoy.

**Chapter 1: Stranger in his Strange World.**

_By Rob Dionysus_

It was roughly 3 o'clock in the afternoon when the dishwasher, who often went by the nickname Cuuks (few people know how he acquired it), left the dish pit in the back area of Campus Coffee to make his rounds bussing tables, collecting more dishes to rinse and run through the sanitizer. The pungent aroma of roasted coffee beans permeated the air, almost to the point where you could simply inhale in lieu of your morning cup. Cuuks mostly went for tables that had already been abandoned but occasionally cleared dishes that required him to make random small-talk with the customers. He was usually good at hiding the fact that he wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of going up to strangers and talking to them but occasionally stress or fatigue might get the better of him and he would avoid making eye-contact and conversation would be kept to a polite minimum. He went up to a table where two taller gentlemen had finished their meals.

"Are you done with your dishes?" He asked, politely as he went to collect them before putting them in one of the dish bins.

"Umm, yeah, here. Thanks," the younger one replied. "Here." He put one of the plates on top of the other and handed it to Cuuks.

Cuuks looked at the empty plates as they were being handed to him. "Well, it's not like I can think of anything else you'd want to do with them but I thought I'd ask."

The older one smiled and said "Hey, can I hold on to mine for a bit? Sometimes it helps to have a blunt object around Sammy here."

A mock expression of hurt fell over Sam's face. "Very funny, Dean."

Dean looked at Cuuk's and at the aprons of his co-workers behind the counter. "You're not wearing a nametag."

Cuuks looked back at Dean. "Neither are you. I'm going to take this as a cue to get back to work. I'll talk to you later." A sincere statement that last sentence was not. In all fairness, Cuuks incorrectly deduced that since these were tourists (he could tell from the accents), this would be the last he'd see of them. He figured that maybe his behavior could have been considered mildly rude but he was one of those people who could get away with the some of the more mild indiscretions.

An hour later Cuuks got off his shift and relaxed with a chai latte before heading out. He noticed that Dean and Sam were still sitting at their place but casually left them to their business and sat at an empty table. Dean and Sam got up and moved to his table.

Cuuks looked up at them. "Hello," he said, reticently. "How are you?"

"Yeah, we're good. Are you Cuuks?" Sam said urgently.

Cuuks furrowed his brow. "Why?" he said in a tone of voice that said _Please don't make me regret asking_.

"Dude, we think your life is in danger," Dean said quietly so only the three of them could hear.

Falling back again on the same tone of voice, Cuuks asked "How?"

Sam looked at Cuuks. "Listen, can we talk somewhere private?"

"Oh ho, listen boys, I'm flattered and I admit I do get this a lot but you're not my types. Too many Y Chromosomes floatin' around in the mix and all." Cuuks stood up to leave.

Dean smirked. "Well, I guess that leaves me out of the equation. Good luck Sammy."

"By the way, how did you know my name?" Cuuks asked after it suddenly occurred to him.

"I saw it in a vision." Sam responded, than quickly winced. He realized too late that honesty isn't always the best policy.

"You have this kind of conversation a lot, do you?"

"I'm serious. Something's after you, Cuuks. Something powerful. We're here to help you out."

Cuuks leaned over to Sam. "Riiiiight. I'm the one who needs 'help'. Okay than." Walking past the counter on the way out, Cuuks said to one of the coworkers, "Switch these guys to decaf, okay?" Moments later, he was gone.

Dean looked at Sam. "That went well."

"He'll come around." Sam said hopefully.

"Yeah, 'cause we were so convincing." Dean and Sam paused and drank a few more sips of their coffees. "Wanna go follow him?"

"Yeah, sure," and with that, they left a tip on the table and left the café.

_**A/N**:Stay tuned for Chapter 2 in the next exciting installment of "Supernaturally, Naturally."_


	2. Chapter 2: Stranger, Will Robinson

**Disclaimer:** Okay, I didn't create the Supernatural universe. If any characters resemble the fictitious inhabitants of the Supernatural universe, it's on purpose. If they don't bare any resemblance to Supernatural people, I probably borrowed them from real life. One can only hope that one day, real life gets them back.

**Beta'd:** by Rae Artemis without whom, I would probably be stuck with an actual life, not sitting around writing fanfics on my computer.

**Chapter 2: Stranger, Will Robinson**

_By Rob Dionysus_

_It was a foggy day. It was a day where the mist permeated through the air like mid-afternoon cigar smoke at a badly written café in a cheesy detective novel. I was strangely preoccupied with two strange men who gave ominous warnings of threats against my life. When I asked them why they thought that, they gave me an excuse that was weaker than a politician's IQ Score. They said it was a vision. They told me their source was vision. Of course it was. They put me on edge. The put me on edge hard, though as I had informed them earlier, it wasn't that kind of edge._

"Hey, wait up." Dean yelled out, snapping Cuuks out of his inner monologue as he walked down the street towards home.

Exasperated, Cuuks looked back at the brothers. "Hello again. How are you? Have you ever considered redecorating your living space with a new rubber motif? I hear it goes great with that new line of spring straight jackets I'm sure you were both looking ever so forward to."

A rather obvious idea struck Dean right on the nose. "Well, Sammy. It looks like he'd rather face this one alone."

"But Dean…" Sam was cut off.

"Listen. It sounds like he made his choice. He seems like a bright kid. Cuuks, it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again sometime but in all honesty, I really don't see that happening. Good-bye." Dean and Sam start walking away.

Sighing, Cuuks responded "Wow. Reverse psychology, flimsily done I might add. I mean, do you seriously expect an intelligent grown-up to fall for such a cheap psyche 101 trick?"

Sam looked at Cuuks. "Dude, you're following us."

"What?" He looked at his legs. "Dammit." He kept up with Dean and Sam walking in the opposite direction of his apartment.

"So, are you ready to listen to us?" asked Dean.

"Okay, sure. But hold on, let me recap. Sam had a vision that I was in danger…"

"Will be in danger," Sam corrected.

"Okay, that makes more sense." Cuuks said with mock comprehension. "So, based on this, you two came to town from how far away?"

"Utah," said Dean.

"Really? Utah you say?" Incredulity was becoming an art form for Cuuks.

"We're not actually from Utah. We were just there demon hunting." Dean felt very honest.

They passed a pedestrian with blond hair wearing a red jacket who can't have possibly missed what Dean said but kept a nonchalant expression like this was nothing new to him. Cuuks looked at him bewilderedly then regained his composure. "So, you're demon hunters? You know, you'd think you'd be better at this." He scratched his forehead.

"Well, you're not exactly catching us at our best," Sam added.

"That much is certain." Dean was wearing a nervous grin the past few minutes.

"No kidding. So, am I to presume that this threat on my life is demonic by nature?" asked Cuuks.

Dean and Sam both looked at each other then at Cuuks. "Pretty much."

Dean went on to further explain that a demon is after Cuuks on account that for some reason, it was discovered that Cuuks couldn't be possessed and if this trait were to be hereditary, could spell trouble for supernatural possessors.

Cuuks mulled over their conversation. "Okay guys, it's been fun but I've had enough. You should send this stuff into Reader's Digest. They have a page for people like you." Cuuks turned and started heading back home. "You two should really write a book," he said back to the guys after a few meters.

Sam hurried back to Cuuks. "Before you go, take this card. It has our cell phone in case you change your mind."

"So long guys. It's been fun." Cuuks took the card and finally left them to their own devices, wondering if it wouldn't have been a better idea to keep walking with them and lead them in the direction of the nearest hospital.

Cuuks went back to his apartment. "_Those guys were nuts. No sane person could make that kind of stuff up, let alone believe it," _he thought to himself and checked to make sure the door was locked. Cuuks then proceeded to theorize that the two brothers watched way too much 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' or other such shows regarding supernatural activity. Eventually, Cuuks packed it in and tucked himself into bed thinking the only demon he would encounter that night is insomnia.

**A/n: **_Tune in next time in "Chapter 3, Insert classic Sci-fi reference here for the exciting blood chilling life endangering continuation of 'Supernaturally, Naturally'. Same Bat-Author, same Bat-Story._


	3. Chapter 3: Malice in Wonderland

**Beta'd: **by my Master Beta, Rae Artemis. She got by with a little help from her friend, Superdoopernaturally. Oo, I'm going to try with a little help from my friends, (sorry, the Beatles kind of got out of me there).

**A/N:** Any references, veiled or obvious, to anything from the universes of Marvel (or more particularly, Batman), Buffy (or generic vampire lore), Red Dwarf, Supernatural, Stephen King, or Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, more commonly known under the writing pseudonym, Lewis Carroll, (which, begs the question of why anyone would care to use a pseudonym in writing, I mean, it's not like Stephen King ever did that more then a couple times), are completely accidental. I mean, I have no idea how they got in there. Seriously, I'm usually so careful about this. Oh, and sorry to any regular readers for the wait, unless you are evil and totally deserve to have to wait for this kind of thing.

**Chapter 3: Malice in Wonderland.**

_By Rob Dionysus_

Cuuks steps on to the moors as the fog curls around his ankles. He shivers, buttons his coat, and walks on into the mist. A shadowy figure lurches into frame, dripping with foul water and dark mud. Cuuks' eyes blurred for a moment and then, as they focused, he let out a gasp as he viewed the monstrosity that approached him. He tried to move but his legs weren't responding. Cuuks was able to see the figure more clearly. Under the mud, his wild hair, rounded nose, and maniacal lips were all devilishly red in contrast with his bright white face strangely free from the mud that so desperately clung to his polka-dot clothing and big floppy shoes. Cuuks visibly relaxed._ He looked at the clown approaching him._

"Hello," he said. The clown inched forward. "Hello?" Cuuks repeated to no avail. "Hey, Pennywise. Look up." He sighed. "This is a nightmare, isn't it?" Cuuks tried again to move his legs but they still failed to respond. "This isn't working, Chuckles. I'm not coulrophobic." He stood there as the clown approached. "Stephen King aint got nothing on me. Move, you stupid legs," he looked down, getting a tad concerned. The clown, reeking of mud, with breath that could cut through a bank vault, finally stood face to face with a panting Cuuks.

"What do you call the world's smartest fish?" the Clown whispered in an _intoxicatingly evil voice._

Cuuks found himself involuntarily drawn to this question. Against his better judgment, he replied, "I don't know. What?"

The clown grinned and said with a giggle, "A brain sturgeon."

Cuuks immediately let out a scream and bolted upright out of his dream to find himself in his bedroom. It was a fairly nondescript room with a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf and a bedside table next to his bed. All of his posters and decorations were in the living room of his apartment. The beads of sweat congealed on his forehead like hot cheese on plastic. He cleaned dishes at his work so this kind of simile came easy to him. He changed into his clothes, grabbed his backpack out of habit, and locked his apartment door behind him.

"I'm going to travel alone after midnight. Yessir, I'm feeling smart today. It's a good thing that I live in a safe neighborhood with precious little to do," Cuuks thought to himself.

Mist curled around his feet as he exited the building, and he reflected on the dream again and pictured the fog of the moor in his remarkably still vivid dream. He started walking down the sidewalk and felt unusually unfazed by the chilling air that hung with a stillness that normally made him feel uncomfortable.

Two men walked by him, one of which Cuuks remembered passing from his earlier conversation with the two brothers. The other was a taller man with a paler complexion and bleached hair. The taller one stopped. "Eh, you got a smoke?" he asked, with a British accent.

Cuuks looked at him strangely. "Sorry. I don't smoke."

The stranger took out one of his own smokes and stuck it in his mouth. "You got a lighter then?" He said with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. His companion looked at Cuuks apologetically. Cuuks took out his lighter and lit the cigarette. "You ought not to walk out this time o' night. You might come across some nasties, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"I suppose you had your own lighter too and I just wasted lighter fluid."

"Seriously man, you should go back to wherever you live. There are some weird people out at night, and they're not suckers either. Well, none of them are as lively a sucker as you, anyways," the companion interjected.

"What?" Cuuks asked, before he could stop himself. "Actually, just go away. I don't want to talk to anyone."

The smoker shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's your funeral."

Cuuks frowned. What was it with people today? "Okay then, you. Walk safe now." The smoke wafted around Cuuks' face resulting in a cough. He took that as a cue to just turn and leave, as did the strangers.

As the pair walked away, he overheard the British one grunt disapprovingly at the one with the red jacket. "What? The sucker thing? I thought you were into that morbid nihilistic humor stuff."

Cuuks had no idea what the guy was talking about. He continued walking down the street and into the empty alleyway as a shortcut to nowhere in particular, he couldn't help shake the feeling that casually ignoring four people who tried somewhat vehemently to warn him of impending doom was somewhat daft and midnight cure for insomnia wasn't exactly on par with the usual intelligence he devotes to his actions.

Trash was littered the ground around Cuuks and he carefully moved a garbage can out of his way, the clang of the garbage can being lowered on to the ground probably accounted for part of why he didn't hear footsteps approach from behind. He neared the end of the alleyway when he thought he saw Dean driving a car in the street beyond with Sam riding shotgun and was not eager to encounter them again and wondered if his attitude would change if they magically became attractive women instead. Turning around, Cuuks thought it would be safer to head the other way.

"Good evening sir," Cuuks said to the overweight man that was coming down the alleyway at him and Cuuks avoided eye contact to discourage further conversation, thus missing the dark, colorless pupils that glared in his direction.

A low growl emanated from the man's throat. "Don't talk to strangers, child." The man's right hand went for Cuuks' neck faster than a man of his unfit proportions should have been able to. "Especially if they have that special glint in their eyes."

In the second before his throat was in the grasp of the demon, Cuuks' let out a scream in an octave he didn't know he was capable of. Suddenly developing a case of religion, he found himself silently trying to appeal to any benign deity that would have the power to deliver him from this unpleasant situation. The demon was one of those types that liked to talk to their prey before it kills and started to say something but screamed at the last moment as liquid splashed over both his and Cuuks' face.

Cuuks fell to his knees gasping for air as the demon writhed in pain. Cuuks' looked at the demon and then at Sam who helped him up. "Holy water, Batman?" Cuuks said, as he had the tendency to pun in stressful situations.

"Come on," Sam urged and they ran down the alley where Dean was waiting in the car in gear. As they neared the car, the demon recovered and came barreling down the alley only to run into the closed door of the backseat of the car where Cuuks climbed in. As Dean started to drive off, Cuuks locked his door and put on his seatbelt. He didn't want to die in a crash.


	4. Chapter 4: Grunts Upon a Thyme

Disclaimer: So, you're on a fanfiction website and you click on a story or an author or whatever; the point is, you get to this story through some process that makes it blindingly obvious that an incredibly small percentage of the stories you find will be based upon worlds and universes and whatnot of the author's own creation. Still, providing a disclaimer that I am in no way affiliated with the 'Supernatural' world beyond that of a typical fan, by which I mean a typical fan of a TV show/Movie/Book/Play/etc. in general and not a maniacally screaming 'Supernatural' fangirl (thinking of earning a few fangirls myself... that aren't Rae Artemis).

Chapter 4: Grunts Upon a Thyme.

_By Rob Dionysus_

Cuuks, Sam, and Dean arrived at a cheap motel leaving skid marks in the parking lot. Sam and Dean stepped out of the car and headed toward the motel entrance. Cuuks, after taking off his seatbelt, skittishly turned his entire body around to see if there were any obvious signs of being followed. Dean grunted, came back, and opened the back door.

"So is it safe?" Cuuks asked.

"Safer inside. Let's go," he responded.

Cuuks got out and followed the two brothers inside. A blonde receptionist greeted them with a smile. Dean reflected her smile. "Hi, the three of us would like a room please."

"Is that one room each?" she asked.

"Just a room for the three of us," Sam explained.

There was a pause. "Really?" The receptionist raised an eyebrow.

The three men shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "You're very attractive," Cuuks told her, breaking the silence.

"Dude, shut up." Sam nudged Cuuks in the ribs.

She smiled, typed some things on her computer and provided Sam and Dean with a couple of key cards. Dean took out a credit card and paid. They headed to the motel room. Cuuks didn't notice right away that Dean and Sam immediately started pouring salt around the edges of the room.

"Wow. Golly gee. Thanks guys. Really defensible position you got here. One door and a window right next to it. How many exits did you have in..." Cuuks turned and saw Dean and Sam's ritual of bordering the walls with salt. "What are you doing?"

"We're protecting the room from Demons. What does it look like?" Dean sneered. "They can't cross the stuff."

"Ahhh." Cuuks nodded, feigning comprehension, and, just then remembering the bag of sugar that he earlier forgot to remove from the backpack still on his shoulders, took out the bag and started pouring it in a circular shape around himself.

Sam noticed and immediately rubbed his head. "It doesn't work with sugar. Sam paused. "Why do you have a bag of sugar on you?"

Cuuks glared right back at Sam. "There's something I think you should know," he said with a mocking sigh.

"What?"

"By night, I hunt diabetic vampires, werewolves, pagan gods, demons, Paris Hilton, and other evil clichéd supernatural devices. This is just part of my sugary arsenal." He paused for a moment. "Ooo, I brought donuts." He reached into his bag and grabbed a bag with some donuts in it. "You guys want one?"

Dean and Sam looked grossed out.

"That's okay."

"They're all yours, buddy," answered Dean.

Sam looked at Dean. "Seriously?"

"Dude, do you have any idea how long they've been sitting in that bag?"

Cuuks finished eating a donut. Sam and Dean resumed salting the room. "You think you can help us there, buddy?" asked Dean.

Cuuks nodded and checked out the spice rack small kitchen area. "Does it have to be salt?"

"Yes," the brothers said in unison.

Cuuks grabbed a small container and read the label. "I found some thyme." He was met with silence. "You know, in case we get hungry." He opened the container. "Ha, I guess we've run out of thyme."

"Sam, can't we just leave this one for the demons?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, don't tempt me. Don't think it would work. No demon would be able to stand being inside the head of someone who puns so incessantly."

"Pretty sure that's the only time I punned to you guys."  
"It was plenty," Dean coughed.

Cuuks opened a cupboard and found a salt shaker with a bit of salt in it, got down on his hands and knees and started shaking it along the wall. Dean and Sam managed to finish their halves of the room and ended up on either side of Cuuks. After a minute, Dean unscrewed the lid and poured the rest out. "I didn't think of that. So what's the plan for taking on this evil dead army of darkness? I didn't happen to bring a chainsaw appendage so I'm basically unarmed. And yes, I pun when I'm nervous. Get used to it."

"Well, according to the vision, it's only the one demon that's after you," exposited Sam.

"Well, that's flattering."

"Figuring because he or she or it or whatever is the only one who knows. Takes you out and gets all the credit. We have charms that prevent demons from being able to possess us. Once we take out this one demon, we won't have to worry about other demons because you'll keep a charm with you and they'll just assume it's because of that."

"Only one demon?"

"Seriously," said Dean, incredulously. "Is your ego really that fragile?"

"No. No. No. Well yes but it's not that. I mean, only one demon? Doesn't that just seem a little convenient? I mean, if there was an entire host of demons after me, there'd pretty much be nothing to do but hope some Deus Ex Machina occurs and some heavenly host plucks me from an eternity of torment."Cuuks said. "And with my luck, they'll let me stew in the demon's clutches for like, three months before they do it." Cuuks glared at Dean for a moment.

"Hey, you're lucky there's just one after you. Don't knock it," Dean grunted.

"So, are you going to tell me how we're going to kill this demon?" asked Cuuks.

"Yeah sure," said Dean. "As soon as we think of it."

A/N: You'll get the next chapter as soon as I feel like it.


End file.
